The Bonds That Remain
by GuiltyByDefault
Summary: After PoA, Harry struggles to deal with the loss of Sirius and wanders off to be reckless. Severus is sent to deal with him, and he is not happy about it! Challenged by the stubborn boy he is forced to confront his own past. Will he be able to overcome his childhood burden and see Harry as what he is? Bonding fic. Nice Sev! Childhood revealed! Rated T for abuse in some chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This fic is taking place after PoA and is AU (you will figure out why, don't want to spoil it). This will be a HP/SS bonding fic with lots of hurt and drama and abuse or reference to abuse in some chapters, so consider yourselves warned. This first chapter is much longer than the following ones as the story was originally as a one-shot.

If you are interested, I have been writing another Harry-Sev bonding fic which takes place before Harry starts at Hogwarts. He gets abused by the Dursleys, a muggle pediatrician finds out and Harry is placed in Severus' care! Feel free to check out my profile page for the story. Both are updated regularly.

x x x

**The Bonds That Remain - Chapter 01  
**

x x x

Harry lay on his bed. If it were not for the irregular blinking of his eyes every now and then, the bystanding observer could have considered him dead. For hours he had not moved, unwilling to ever do so again in his life. Deep inside, Harry felt this coldness creep up on him. Not quite the feeling dementors left, but very close.

For a very short moment in his young life, he had been truly happy. The prospect of having a godfather taking care of him, the chance of a life away from the Dursleys... All that had ignited a formerly unknown feeling of happiness. The feeling that someone truly cared, that someone was there to heave the burden of being responsible off his chest, someone who would allow him to be a child again. But like all good things in Harry's life, that feeling hadn't lasted very long and before he was able to dwell on it any longer, he was back to his miserable life.

At first Harry had felt hatred. Hatred for Dumbledore, who had not been able to do more for Sirius. Hatred for Peter Pettigrew, who had once more escaped and with that deprived him of all chances to prove Sirius' innocence. Hatred for Sirius, who had promised him something so beautiful and then taken it away from him so brutally. And ultimately, hatred for himself, because he knew that blaming Sirius was probably the least fair thing to do.

His initial stupor lasted for a couple of days in which he was pretty much left to himself. The prospect of a caretaking godfather/murderer on the run had frightened Uncle Vernon enough to ignore him completely while his wife and son followed suit.

Usually, Harry wouldn't have minded being left to himself, for once safe from Vernon's frustrations being loaded off on him. But after his initial phase of mourning was over, the feeling of emptiness started nagging him.

The first days back from Hogwarts, Harry had not eaten at all. Even the thought of it had made him feel sick. On the third night, he couldn't bear it any longer and snuck up to the fridge during nighttime, undetected by the Dursleys. But after a couple of days, the feeling of isolation which at first had made him feel close to his godfather's situation, lost its effect. What had been utter sadness and pain at first now ebbed away and made room for new feelings of anger. Anger he had to take out on someone, anyone.

That was a problem, given that all of the houses inhabitants were carefully avoiding him. Even after a week of wandering the house during daytime and doing things that would have earned him a hiding from Uncle Vernon any prior year, were now simply answered by avoidance.

His great plan, scaring his relatives with his murdering godfather's looming threat of intervention, had finally backfired. Scared away from him, with no reaction to his behavior whatsoever, Harry was at a loss of options to take out his anger and frustration.

"What's wrong with you guys?" he finally yelled one night at the Dursleys, sitting on their dinner table and pretty much succeeding in ignoring his presence.

"Petunia, would you pass me the chicken, please?" Vernon asked, completely ignoring that Harry was there.

Stepping right next to his uncle's place, Harry's head turned red from anger.

"Over here!" He screamed. "What's the matter now? Too scared to even look at me?"

He couldn't even find the right words that would match his frustration and hate. He would have hoped for Vernon to yell at him, hit him, do anything, but not ignore him any longer. All he had ever wished for was now the least likely thing he could deal with for simply another day.

When Vernon still did not react to his provocation, Harry hit the bowl with chicken legs out of Vernon's beefy fingers. With a shattering sound, it hit the floor and broke to thousand pieces.

Deprived of the imminent prospect of more food, Vernon finally looked up at Harry, rage evident in his face. Surprisingly, his voice was even calmer than usual.

"Don't take me for stupid boy," he said quietly. "Don't believe even for one second that I don't know what you are trying to pull off here. Think you can provoke me with your stupid behavior, to do something your so-loved godfather wouldn't approve of?"

A sickening smile spread across Vernon's face as he was eying Harry's reaction closely.

"That's right boy. That's what you just realized," he continued.

Petunia had laid her fork down, watching her husband closely while Dudley had seized the chance to go after the chicken legs spread across the floor.

"It is not us being scared of your silly threats. It is _you_ who has just realised that he is alone. All. Alone. No one coming looking for you? No one to hold you while you cry your stupid little eyes out?"

Harry was now shaking with rage, not sure what he was supposed to do next. This was certainly not the development he had hoped for.

"Look," Vernon continued, clearly pleased with his little speech now. "It is always the same with your type of person. You can pull off a show to anyone, be the hero, survivor, friend or whatever. Everybody gets the chance of enjoying your little acting, but ultimately the only person that cannot be fooled by it is you."

Clearly relishing over his little dramatic pause, Vernon took a sip from his coffee and then looked Harry directly in the face.

"One sad day, and I dare say this day has just come, you will realise that you are all alone. No one cares for you. No one bothers. Never did."

Harry had to swallow hard, but wasn't going to let his mimic betray his feelings. He knew where this was going.

"You can provoke us as much as you want in your pitiable little attempt to be noticed, but you are not worth any reaction. You are _nothing_."

With those words, Vernon slowly redirected his attention to the food that had been shoved before him by his wife and started eating again. This conversation – at least for his part – was over.

Dudley, who had finally succeeded in peeling the remnants of the broken bowl off of his chicken legs and was never good in doing things in the right order, stuffed them into his mouth and then attempted to speak.

"There you go, dumbass," he said, spitting chicken everywhere. "All you ever wanted. Another reason to feel sorry for yourself." And with that, his intellectual contribution for the day was over.

Harry's hands were shaking by now, his fingers twitching to reach for the wand he had stowed in his sleeve right on the first night he had come back from King's Cross. Vernon hadn't dared to deprive him of his magical possessions for once, the threat of Sirius' presence too shocking at first.

Now, he wanted to hex Vernon, turn him into something very nasty. But what would happen then? He would surely be expelled for his underage magic, with the Ministry having no more reason to handle him with kid gloves, or even worse – the Dursley's would realize that his beloved godfather that had scared them so much would do nothing to save him from his lousy situation. Then they'd know that this was all just a great bluff.

Frustrated at his own lack of ideas, he clenched his fists, shot one look at his hated family, and turned around. In a rush he packed up his most precious belongings and told the reluctant Hedwig to fly ahead and get to Ron's place – after all he was still in for the big event of the year, the Quidditch World Cup! He just needed some more time on his own, time to wear off his frustration and deal with his anger.

With a menacing grin, realisation hit Harry. This was his chance – with the Dursleys so determined to ignore any of his choices, he was a free man, able to do whatever he pleased.

He went back upstairs and with one last look across his small and rather sparsely furnished room, he grabbed his suitcase, turned around and left #4 Privet Drive for good.

x x x

With a jerk Severus sprung out of his armchair by the fireplace.

Like every holiday he had spent the first week diligently preparing new potions which required all summer to brew, to be used by the start of the next school year. Once they had been set up, he had prepared a shopping list to restock his inventories and gone to Diagon Alley.

Going right at the beginning of the summer was a clever choice. This way he avoided shopping amongst annoyingly excited teenagers completing their last-minute-shopping on spell books and robes as if they had had no time to do so before during their summer break.

No, Severus was much smarter than that. Before the week was over, he had prepared everything he wished, restocked his Potions lab and settled for a calm summer away from Hogwarts and – after all – the Potter brat!

As a man that liked routines, he had his house elf prepare a delicious tea every afternoon which he relished over a monstrous piece of a textbook on potion brewing. He had discovered it in a dark and sneaky bookstore in Knockturn Alley and taken no time to work through it.

There were many interesting potions in that, not all that difficult or challenging at all for a master of this field of discipline. It was more the purpose these potions could be put to that had raised his interest immediately.

Next to the regular potions that forced people to tell the truth (easy), visualize their greatest fears (easy, but hard-to-acquire-ingredients) and forced sleepwalking (now what would you need that for?), there were darker potions capable of changing persons' intentions, their judgment of right and wrong or their perceptions of who was friend or foe. While they were meant to Confound, the potion was much stronger and not as easily detectable lest reversible as the simple Confounding spell and thus yielded many advantages – or disadvantages, depending on the point of view.

Like with all things, it is the use you put them to. Even humanity's greatest gifts can be turned into weapons. Ironically, this would work the other way around as well, although it'd be much more challenging.

Exactly the challenge a mind in need required and Severus had taken no time scribbling in tiny scrawl additions and alterations into his textbook, determined to put some of these potions to his own use.

He was just pondering on the possibilities such an undetectable potion would have on any Death Eater, or possibly even Voldemort himself, when put to his own adapted use, when a shiver ran down his spine, causing him to jerk from his chair violently.

_The wards have failed._

In no time, he had grabbed a pinch of floo powder, thrown it into his fireplaced and yelled

"Dumbledore's Office."

The flames changed to the right colour and with a quick stride, Severus walked into the Headmaster's office.

Stepping out of the fireplace on the other side of the fire, Severus looked into the not-quite-so alarmed face of Albus Dumbledore.

"So you already know."

Dumbledore nodded.

"Of course you know," Severus stated, shaking his head in a mixture of disdain and annoyance.

"What has he done then?" he asked.

"As of yet, I cannot be sure," Albus stated simply. "I only know that the blood wards have failed. You, as one of the entrusted persons, will have felt it too, just like I did."

Severus merely nodded, not betraying a single thought.

"Could it be that his relatives finally revoked his right to stay in their house?" Albus mused. "I was sure to have imparted the importance of his presence in their house empathetically."

Unnerved by the old man's inner dialogue, Severus raised one eyebrow, not speaking out what he thought.

With two long strides, Albus stood next to Severus, looking him directly in the eyes.

"I know I ask a lot of you, but I am not to wander off this premises at the moment, there is so much important business to attend to."

"What could be much more important than Potter's safety?" Severus interrupted.

"Of course you are right, my dear Severus," Albus agreed with a nod. "And that is why I intend to bestow this important duty on my most trusted friend."

This was not a question.

Annoyed by the turn this conversation had taken, not even being asked in that matter, Severus made a grunting sound.

"You want me to leave right away, Headmaster?"

He always became formal when he steeled himself not to let his actions betray any emotions.

"That would be very kind of you, I thank you, Severus."

And with that, Albus turned around, not paying any more attention to his faithful agent.

x x x

It was a mild summer evening in Little Whinging and due to the time of the year, it would still take a while before the sun would set and surrender the place to darkness.

There was a couple walking along Magnolia Crescent, probably on their evening walk around the block. They didn't notice the faint pop that preceded the arrival of a slender and darkly dressed man who, after gazing around for a second, directed his steps straight to the front door of Number 4 Privet Drive.

Annoyance still suppressing the parts of his emotions that may actually have felt worried about the brat, he hit the front door a little too hard, causing it to squeak in its hinges.

After a short moment he could hear footsteps inside, followed by an annoyed grunt.

"Don't you dare break the damn door down!" a deep male voice yelled. "Not such a clever idea after all to leave, was it?"

A nasty laughter followed this statement.

Then, Severus heard the sound of footsteps becoming fainter and fainter. _Had Vernon Dursley just turned around and left him standing in front of the door like an idiot?_

With a swift movement of his wand, not even bothering to speak out the words aloud, the door swept open silently. Severus was broiling.

After a few strides across the hallway, passing a little space under the stairs that he knew had once housed the stupid Potter brat, he made his impressive entrance to the family room.

Uncle Vernon, who had only realised a movement behind him, turned around with surprising agility and froze in his movement as he saw not the intruder he had expected, but a fully grown wizard.

Backing away a couple of steps, he regained his brevity.

"What is someone like _you_ doing here?" he spat angrily. "Not making it my fault that _stupid_ has gone haywire, are you?"

Now it was Severus' turn to halt. _What was that supposed to mean?_

Taking a moment to gaze around the room, he recognised Petunia standing in a far corner, the fear in her face only levelled by her disgust upon his sight.

"Say what you have to say and then leave," she stated coldly, not intent on a longer conversation with the person she hated so much.

"As you please," Severus replied coldly, ignoring Vernon completely.

"The blood wards have been revoked and I ask you to explain before I do not longer bother to dwell on the technicalities of..."

"Of _WHAT_?" Petunia interrupted, clearly disgusted by the need to speak with him. "Dealing with the boy's stupidity?"

"Explain!" Severus demanded.

"Believe it or not," Petunia said, putting as much condescendence in her words as possible, "this time he screwed up all by himself. _WE_ offered him the place to live, but if he is too stupid to appreciate it, you can hardly blame us for that."

"You mean he left willingly to wander off all by himself. Where'd he go to?"

Now it was Petunia's turn to laugh.

"You really think we care? After all the trouble he's put us through? This summer he just went too far, trying to threaten us with this moron godfather of his, thinking he could scare us into acting like his servants all summer? No," she laughed again. "He willingly left and no longer calls this house his home. He's all your problem now."

Furious at these developments, Severus turned on his heel without another word and left #4 Privet Drive, trying to detect any magic the boy might have left while leaving. Yet he knew that after all, Harry wouldn't be _that_ stupid.

x x x

Getting on to the Knight Bus hadn't been difficult. After Harry had accidentally summoned it last summer without knowing what was going, it had been a cakewalk this time!

He had been clever enough to leave Little Whinging first before summoning his ride to Diagon Alley, and after all, a teenager on public transportation to leave his home wasn't out of the ordinary during summer break at this time of the day. As soon as he had felt safe and far enough away from Privet Drive, he had stuck out his wand and waited for the Knight Bus to pick him up.

Putting off Stan's questions with legitimate explanations (grab money from Gringott's, head to the Weasley's and off to the Quidditch World Cup!) he felt reckless.

Nothing could stop Harry now.

If no one cared, no one bothered, he'd just deal with his anger and frustration on his own... do what he was never able to do in the prior years... be the master of his own life...

In no time he had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, waving goodbye to Stan with a fake smile. As soon as the Knight Bus had left, he retreated into a small and dark backstreet, out of the public's view and away from the well-lit entrance of the wizard's pub.

From experience he knew that his face was known by all wizards. And despite his anger he was not stupid or intent on getting caught on his lone mission by showing the whole wizarding world that Harry Potter was walking off all by himself, protected by none, practically asking for an adult's attention.

Knowing that the pub was his only way to Diagon Alley, he dug through his suitcase, pulling out his dad's Invisibility Cloak. With a swift motion he and his suitcase vanished from the dark back street and with confidence he made his way to the pub's entrance.

Maybe due to the summer time, or time of day, it was rather deserted. Most visitors were probably still in Diagon Alley or maybe gone to bed early. Harry didn't question his luck as he walked past the bald barkeeper Tom, careful not to make a sound. A minute later a seemingly hovering wand in mid-air poked at the brick wall and the hidden entrance to the wizarding world opened.

Harry's heart leapt at the idea of spending the whole summer in this place, with so many magical things to discover and – as he proudly thought – a small fortune in his vault at his disposal.

That was right. He'd just had to get enough gold for the next year and sufficiently enjoy the fact that he was all by himself now, accountable to no one and free to do as ever he pleased.

Uplifted by that feeling of irresponsibility, Harry let his feet carry him away through the streets of the second-favorite magical place he knew. Regarding the shop windows in bypassing, he took mental notes of which shops he wanted to visit during the opening times once his liquidity was restored.

Completely unaware of where his feet led him, he jerked to a halt when he suddenly noticed that something was off. The streets had become darker than they should be around this time of the day. Sure it was dawning, but after all, dawn shouldn't feel so... creepy?

There were fewer shops in this part of Diagon Alley and more pubs and little houses with no evident use to the bypasser. Several beggars sat on benches and the floor as he passed along the streets and although Harry was sure that his Invisibility Cloak was shielding him from view, he felt somehow tracked.

Just as he thought that paranoia was now kicking in, he turned around, realizing that he had gotten lost. Going into the one direction had seemed easy, as if he was following a specific part.

Upon turning around, he now realized that there were so many intersections, wrong ways and niches, at times inhabited by small peculiar creatures, that he could hardly tell which way to choose back to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Point me!" Harry whispered to his wand, but to his great surprise, it did nothing at all.

"Point ME!" He said a little louder, puzzled by the fact that his loyal wand had chosen exactly this moment to discontinue its service.

His shock was only interrupted by a quiet, icy voice behind him.

"Now what have we got here?" it whispered in delight.

With a jerk Harry spun around.

"Your little toy betraying you, Potter?" the icy voice said, pleased to have cast the spell at the right time.

Harry didn't recognise the voice and was blinded by the illuminated wand tip of the person standing right before him. With a yank, the wand-free hand grabbed into his direction, getting hold of the Invisibility Cloak, and pulled it from his body.

Too puzzled by the fact why he was not invisible to that person, Harry hadn't managed to hold on to his Cloak. With eyes squeezed to small slits, he tried to make out his opponent's face.

"No use, no use," his opponent mused, his voice turning icier by the second. "He will reward me for this. Oh how he will reward me for this!"

"Petrificus Totalus!"

With a sickening sound Harry fell forwards right on to his nose which broke by the pure force of his weight pressing down on him. Not able to move, an uncontrollable fear exploded inside him.

He wanted to scream, fight, do anything, and was left with no power at all. He felt a heavy boot kick him in the ribs, rolling him to his back like a dead piece of meat.

At the sight before his eyes, it felt like all blood had drained from his body. He was looking into the malicious and sickeningly pleased eyes of the person he had hated most during his first week of summer.

The person who was responsible for all his suffering, the reason that he was now not able to live with his godfather.

_Wormtail_.

"Oh how he will reward me," Wormtail mused again, delighted at his own luck.

The last thing Harry saw was a blue whizzing eye instead of Wormtail's regular eyeball, darting from the Invisibility Cloak to Harry and back.

"Yes, yes," Wormtail nodded eagerly, noticing Harry's look. "You didn't think he'd send me on his most important mission unprepared, did you?"

Before Harry could think about the meaning of these words, some sort of bag was pulled over his head and after a short moment of mortal fear, all turned black.

x x x

Severus Snape was livid with anger.

Not only had the stupid brat forsaken the blood wards that were his singular and infallible protection against all the dark that lurked out there somewhere... somewhere growing stronger, sure to return one day... he had managed to shake him off. _Him_, _Severus Snape_.

Of all wizards, and Harry had left an easy-to-follow-track up to this point, Snape had been sure to seize him in no time and chuck him back into the despicable place he would call his home for the next years until he'd be of age, of that he'd make sure!

Now Severus stood in the deserted back street of Diagon Alley, dumbstruck at the sight of _nothing_. He had followed the poorly disguised track of Harry's presence up to this point easily and now found himself in such a place, with no idea where to go next.

_Potter is not able to Apparate yet_, he thought bitterly. _He won't have gotten hold of any portkey whatsoever and is probably incapable of other means. Even his broom I would have detected, so he hasn't flown off elsewhere, too. _

Frustrated at the sudden turn events had taken he started to wander around, searching for traces of other magic – capable or not – the boy had found a way to leave this place when he had been so sure to track him down any minute.

Turning on his heels, Severus retraced the steps he had taken and suddenly stopped to a halt. There was something on the ground he hadn't detected before. _It was blood_.

Relieved by the new point for further investigation and shocked by its subtle implications, Severus performed some rather advanced spells to relive the past moments that had happened here in Diagon Alley, shielded from the public's view.

He felt pure horror as he saw Wormtail stunning Harry and then dragging him, apparently unconscious, into a deserted house on the left-hand side. Not only because of the damn Golden Boy whacked unconscious and carted off anywhere, but by the necessary consequence of Wormtails uncharacteristically ambitious behavior he felt fear rising in his chest. _Wormtail was serving his master again_.

_The old hag had really done it again_, Severus thought bitterly. _Of all the nonsense she had forecasted in her life, she had done it again... 'Servant and master shall be reunited once...more!'_

That was it. _He_ was back. He had started feeling it on the day Wormtail had escaped. He had felt the dark power penetrating his mind, the Dark Mark on his arm regain some part of its strength and darkness, all those subtle hints... and hoped for those bad omens to be wrong.

Now he knew they were not.

Realising that there was not much time to save Potter from the inevitable, he allowed himself a second to reflect whether he was really going to take these steps from which would be no return, and then stepped into the deserted house Wormtail had entered only moments ago.

Inside, it was exactly how Severus had expected it to be. The shield guarding the entrance door had been a joke, nothing to stop the determined Potion's Master on his way.

_Thank god he gave Pettigrew the equipment but not the brains to use it_, he thought bitterly.

Wand held high in front of him, alerted to react in a split second, Severus slowly moved deeper into the contorted house with its abnormally dark corners and so many paths to take.

Guided by determination, and possibly some instinct, he was led to what seemed to be the living room. The house's tiny entrance betrayed its actual size, or was it part of the magic that surrounded the buildings in this part of Diagon Alley?

After a few minutes, he heard someone mutter. Apparently confident in his spells to block out any unwanted visitors, Wormtail was oblivious to the intruder. He had set up a fire in the fireplace, a lifeless body slumped next to him, ready for transportation.

Severus knew that he had to act now or would regret his hesitation. At precisely the moment Wormtail shouted his desired destination and the flames turning emerald, he charged forwards, throwing a stunning spell at Pettigrew.

Wormtail's face contorted to an unnatural grimace upon realising what had just happened and what was about to await him on the other side of the fire when he fell into the flames, in loss of control over his body.

Wand still held high, Severus grabbed part of the lifeless body and in a swift movement, Apparated both of them back to the only safe place within reach – Snape Manor.

Now his cover was blown. Once and for good. Sure there was no way that Pettigrew wouldn't mention to the Dark Lork who had saved the Golden Boy from him, taken him out of his reach yet another time...

There would be no hiding place anymore.

x x x

"Yes, Albus, he is alright." Snape sighed, disgusted by the old man's worry clearly too focused on the safe return of the Golden Boy instead of the troubling events and their consequences surrounding this incident.

"I am glad to hear that, Severus," Albus replied, his head poking out of the green flames the fireplace in Severus' study provided. "Where is he now?"

"Recovering," Severus snorted.

It hadn't taken much to heal Potter's broken nose, but the near asphyxiation by Wormtail's stupid stunt with his bag over Harry's head had caused him some worries. To make sure that Harry hadn't experienced some brain damage or any other permanent condition, he had had to waste some rather precious potions of his to make sure Harry would be restored to full health.

"Why isn't he awake then?" Albus questioned with a quirked eyebrow.

"He will as soon as I feel he should be," Severus replied.

"Don't you think he would be required to visit the Hospital Wing?" Albus carefully set up his trap.

Severus snorted.

"You think my potions are not sufficient to restore this unnerving troublemaker back to heath again?"

"Oh my, sure I did not mean to imply that," Albus smiled. "I am very confident that you are absolutely capable of dealing with _all_ the aspects of Harry's condition."

"What is that supposed to mean now, old man?"

Severus was getting angrier by now, seeing where this was heading.

"As you have told me from your visit at his relatives' place, he clearly made the decision to leave the protection of the blood wards."

"The stupid child doesn't even know about the blood wards." Severus interrupted, happy to have identified the grossest mistake in the Headmaster's logic.

"I know, I know," Albus appeased. "But you not understand the implications of it?"

"Explain," Severus sighed, unnerved by the situation he found himself in in general and the events of the day in specific.

"Harry has gone through much emotional turmoil during the last few weeks. First he thought that an escapee murderer would be after him. Then he realized that this person, who was also his godfather and best friend of his father..." (at this, Severus couldn't suppress an audible snort) "would be the only person coming as close to a parental figure as anyone could get. And then..."

With a heavy sigh, Albus ended his epilogue

"...all that was taken away from him in a single instant. He must have felt abandoned and alone, daring to provoke any human reaction to make him feel wanted or at least noticed by _anyone_. And when his relatives refused to act their part in these dramatic developments, he figured to seek some other thrill to feel any sort of feeling again."

Severus twisted his face.

"So you are implying that your precious Golden Boy has become an adrenaline junkie seeking any kind of danger to put an end to his life in the stupidest and quickest way possible?"

"Not quite," Albus sighed, his eyes thoughtful now. "But a way to test who might still love him enough to care for the child no one seems to want."

"And why," Severus laughed at the hidden implication of this, "why would you think I'd care?"

"Because he is your son."

x x x

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** First of all, I thank those of you who left reviews! They inspired me to continue writing and are always welcome.

Please realise that my version of early events prior to the first book are not canon, but after all, Harry being Severus' son isn't canon either, right?

* * *

**The Bonds That Remain – Chapter 2  
**

'So you are implying that your precious Golden Boy has become an adrenaline junkie seeking any kind of danger to put an end to his life in the stupidest and quickest way possible?'

'Not quite', Albus sighed, his eyes thoughtful now. 'But a way to test who might still love him enough to care for the child no one seems to want.'

'And why', Severus laughed at the hidden implication of this 'why would you think I'd care?'

'Because he is your son.'

x x x

'Betrayed... betrayed by my most faithful servant.' The voice was icy.

Wormtail cringed. Gathering all his brevity, he replied

'But Master, I would never betray you. Those were very unfortunate...'

'Silence!'

After a short spine-chilling pause, Voldemort continued with a humorless laughter.

'Wormtail. You cannot seriously think that I was referring to _you_?'

'But Master!' Annoyed that his voice was still shaking, Pettigrew didn't know what to say. Any explanation would demonstrate his inaptitude and ultimately surrender him to the mercy of his Lord.

As he took a breath to continue, Voldemord made a swift gesture with his hand and Wormtail felt his tongue roll up at the back of his throat. Unable to speak, he looked at his Master, awaiting his next move.

Again, Voldemort laughed dryly.

'My most faithful servant. For so many years I thought him to be my most loyal follower. And yet he fooled me. Me! The most skilled Legilimens of all times! ME!'

With effort, he grabbed his wand and pointed it at his fearful servant.

'_CRUCIO_!'

Wormtail collapsed to the floor, shaking with pain, still unable to scream.

'_CRUCIO_!' Voldemort repeated, full of rage.

Endless moments passed before he finally lifted his wand.

'Thank your Dark Lord that he has still some tasks for you. Otherwise, I would have pleasurably ended your pitiable life here and now!'

With that, he turned around, lifting all spells from Wormtail.

'Thank you my Lord', he stammered, now bowing before his Master. 'This time I will not disappoint you.'

'That', Voldemort turned around again, glaring into two fearful eyes 'remains to be seen.'

x x x

The old grandfather clock in his study chimed again, reminding Severus that yet another hour had passed. He had required time to think since he had returned from the Headmaster. To make sense of all he had heard and seen.

'I am afraid, but your inimitable humor has just become even worse', Severus had replied in shock when Albus had told him that he had a son, quite aware of the insult.

Albus had only shaken his head silently, pondering on his next sentence.

'I had never thought that Lord Voldemort would regain power so quickly.'

'What has that got to do with it now?' Severus interrupted impatiently.

'Please', apologetically, Albus raised his hands. 'Let me explain.'

Severus gave a curt nod.

'I thought there would be time, once this would be all over, that you would be able to learn what happened. That one day, you both would be able to realize... Do you remember those feelings you had for Lily?'

'How _dare_ you mention her name?' Severus' façade remained calm, but on the inside, he was shaking with rage.

'It is you who wanted that explanation', Albus has continued calmly.

A pause followed, and some weird feeling started nagging Severus from the inside. He did feel _something_, but somehow it was like these feelings had vanished a long time ago.

Noticing the inner turmoil his Potions Master went through, Albus decided for another direction.

'You said that Harry will be sleeping for a while?'

'Yes, I sedated him. I wasted some rather precious potions on him to let him recover from the near asphyxiation and I do not intend to have him spoil the effect by waking up too early.'

'Well.' Albus thought for a while. 'Then I suggest you visit me in my office. Now.'

Severus raised an eyebrow.

'And why would my presence be required for your explanation?'

'Because what you are about to learn, I can only show you.'

He made an inviting gesture and after a short pause of hesitation and anger, Severus stepped into the fireplace.

After a fraction of a second, he arrived in Dumbledore's office. Not betraying his emotions, he stood calmly in front of the Headmaster, arms crossed. With a single nod of his head he motioned him to go ahead.

'Follow me.' This was statement, not a question.

Severus knew that the Headmaster's office was always good for a surprise, but couldn't think of a reason why he had to be present to get his explanation. Following Albus across his study to a very large cupboard, he felt more and more disquieted.

After another long moment, Albus opened the cupboard with a spell unknown to Severus and its doors swung open. Severus could see several shelves. On each there stood a small Pensieve. Determined, Albus took one from the highest shelf and moved back to his desk, placing it in the middle, right between him and Severus.

'How will your memories help me understand what you have just told me?' Severus inquired, still annoyed by the turn events had taken.

'Oh', Albus replied. 'But those are not my memories. They are yours.'

For the first time during that conversation, rage became evident on Severus' face.

'I think I would know if I ever entrusted my memories to you!' he replied.

'And this is why you have to watch for yourself.' Albus answered calmly.

And with that, he pushed the Pensieve towards his Potions Master and tactfully retreated to the back of his room.

With an inner sigh which Severus didn't allow to show, he braced himself and then bent over, immersing into his long forgotten memories.

It was as somebody had recorded his life and now hit the rewind button. He saw a much younger version of himself in Albus' office, begging for his help.

'He knows', Severus was desperate. 'He knows and he will find her.'

'But Severus', the Headmaster had replied. 'You are a skilled Legilimens. You have always been able to shield your thoughts and feelings from Lord Voldemort's view.'

'You don't understand!' Severus desperation was unbearable. 'I don't know if it is his strength or the intensity of my feelings, but I don't think that I can hide them much longer from him. Every time he breaks into my mind, I fear that he will see. Her. Please!'

After a short pause, Albus nodded. 'Are you sure that you want to do this? There will be no return. You will not remember.'

For the first time in his life, the Headmaster thought that he had seen tears in the Potions Master's eyes, but in the next moment, they were gone.

'There is no other way to protect her. Them.' Severus added.

Albus furrowed his brows.

'Oh dear. So is it true?'

'Yes. She will be having a baby. My baby.' Severus steeled his mind.

'Please. I beg you to help me. Otherwise he will find out and then they will both die. And he will make sure to have me watch before the same fate awaits me.'

'But how will she deal with it. With you, not knowing? I insist you talk to her before we proceed.'

Severus raised his hand defiantly.

'I already did. There is no way back.'

'So how did she react? What will she do?'

Severus swallowed hard.

'It's not showing yet. She said that she trusts James unconditionally. He will act as a father for our baby.'

Now it was Albus turn to swallow hard.

'But will he be able to do it? Will he be able to forget that she chose you over him?'

Severus nodded.

'It's a no-win situation for both of us. But we both love Lily and it is the only way she and the baby can survive. He will protect her as long as we fight the Dark Lord and once it is over, I will be reunited with my family.'

Albus hesitated for a long moment, looking intently into the dark eyes of his faithful agent.

'But what if your plan fails?'

'Then,' Severus replied grimly, 'I ask a last favor of you.'

'And what would that be?' Albus inquired?

'If he doesn't kill me, never let me remember. I couldn't live with it.'

Albus was silent for a long time, then he nodded, barely noticeably, and the most precious memories of Severus Snape's life were removed from him, stowed away from the reach of his most deadly enemy.

The memory started to fade, then everything started turning and Severus found himself in another memory. The perspective told him that now he was witnessing the Headmaster's thoughts.

Albus was sitting in his office with Minerva McGonagall, his eyes cloudy.

'How are we supposed to tell him?'

'We can't, Albus', his colleague replied. 'He doesn't remember after all, does he?'

The Headmaster shook his head.

'He made the choice to forget, to protect them.'

'Yes!' Minerva interrupted. 'But he cannot protect her anymore. She is dead. They are both dead!'

'The boy isn't.' Albus interjected quietly.

'Yes, but how could he love him, how could he remember? Unless we gave him back his memory.'

'I promised him not to.' Albus interjected.

'And how would that help?' Minerva asked.

'He made a choice to forget to protect them and still Voldemort killed Lily and James. He would remember all the pain he had to go through, realize that abandoning the one most love by him had been a useless deed. How could we add even more grief to him now?'

'Maybe you are right.' Minerva answered slowly. 'There will be a time when he will be ready for it.'

Again, the memory faded and with a jerk, Severus was pulled away from the Pensieve, his body shaking.

A deadly stare hit the Headmaster, hurting him more than words could ever do.

'I deserve your hatred', he simply stated. 'But I felt that I couldn't add any more grief to you at that time. I thought that knowing would only make things worse. After all, I gave you my word.'

'Yes', Severus replied with deadly calmness in his voice. 'I believe this is mine.'

And with those words, he grabbed the small Pensieve. 'Are there any other memories of mine you stowed away somewhere else?'

Albus shook his head, tears in his eyes.

'Good day to you then', the Potions Master said formally, turned on his heels and made his way to the fireplace. Calmly he said 'Snape Manor', pinched some Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepped into the flames, determined never to return to this office.

And there he was sitting again in his chair in the study, the Pensieve resting on the desk beside him, the grandfather clock chiming again.

x x x

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** First of all, thank you for all your kind reviews! It is always nice to see what you think and if there are issues with the storyline etc. I hope you enjoy.

Warning: Slightly abusive Severus this time, but nothing serious.

* * *

**The Bonds That Remain – Chapter 3 **

'Good day to you then', the Potions Master said formally, turned on his heels and made his way to the fireplace. Calmly he said 'Snape Manor', pinched some Floo Powder into the fireplace and stepped into the flames, determined never to return to this office.

And there he was sitting again in his chair in the study, the Pensieve resting on the desk beside him, the grandfather clock chiming again.

x x x

Harry stirred. His head felt like it was going to explode any second. Slowly opening his eyes, he noticed the unfamiliar surroundings. He was lying in a bed, not really comfortable as far as he could tell, but nevertheless a bed on which he had rested for a while, by the looks of it.

The last thing he remembered was having taken a path in Diagon Alley he'd better not have chosen and Pettigrew kidnapping him.

With a jerk, Harry sprung up, only to fall back to the bed again, holding his head in agony.

What if this was a place where Voldemort was close by? Was this why his head was hurting so much? Had Pettigrew succeeded in surrendering him to his Master? But why wasn't he dead then? Certainly Voldemort would not want to waste the opportunity to look him right in the eye while doing it? And how would he be back anyway? For years they had thought that Tom Riddle had finally taken his leave from the surface of this earth.

Again, Harry sat up in his bed, more slowly this time. Scanning his surroundings he wasn't really able to make out anything from which he could deduct where he was. There was a window in this room but apparently it was already dark outside. How long had he slept?

Opposite the window, there was a door. With careful steps, he approached it and pressed the handle. To Harry's surprise, it was not locked. Maybe his kidnapper had thought him too weak to escape and decided against locking him in?

Harry's heart was hammering now, making his headache nearly unbearable. Yet he was determined not to accept his looming fate so easily and put up a fight as best as he could. Grabbing into his pocket he realized that his wand was gone. He hadn't particularly expected to find it there. On the other hand – why would Voldemort keep him alive if not to make a game out of his quickly approaching dead? Wouldn't it have been more interesting with him equally armed?

Steeling his mind, Harry pressed the handle of the door and slid outside, quietly closing the door after him. Without any orientation, he decided to move down the corridor to find some window or stairs to get down and out of the house.

In the corridor where many pictures of old witches and wizards. _Who would have thought that Voldemort would be the type of person for this decoration?_ Harry thought sarcastically. Minutes passed and Harry realized that he had gotten lost, even if he considered that his orientation hadn't been perfect before either.

All corridors seemed to look alike, in some where paintings of witches and wizards, in others pictures of what looked like unfamiliar plants and creatures to Harry. Of course, all pictures were moving. Especially those with beasts in them were rather scary.

After several lost moments, Harry decided to change tactics. He could simply try and move straightforward, even if that meant passing through other rooms. Eventually he would have to reach the end of the house and get outside. His chances of being detected while wandering around the corridors were increasing with every minute anyway.

Harry ensured himself that this was indeed a very good idea and took heart to open a particularly heavy door at the end of a very long corridor. With a creak, it opened. Harry froze for a couple of seconds and upon deciding that apparently no one had heard, moved into the room and closed the door. A few candles were burning inside and moonlight was falling onto the floor, let in by several floor-to-ceiling windows. A big four-poster was standing in the middle of the room, surrounded by skins on the floor. There was a fireplace in one corner. Apparently, Harry had just entered the master's bedroom.

Shocked down to his core, he didn't dare to breathe and approached the bed carefully. For a very short moment, he considered the irony of dying while finding Voldemort in his bed, cuddled into a blanket...

With immense relief, Harry realized that the sheets were untouched. The bed was empty.

But something else drew his attention. There was a picture on a shelf close to the bed. Obviously a man and a woman were dancing in the picture. The woman was looking over the man's shoulder, resting in his arms, only her back was showing, her features somehow _vague_. No matter how often they turned, Harry was not able to make out her face.

Moving close, he tried to recognize the man in the picture. His heart stopped – it was _Snape_.

This was it then?

This was Snape's house?

With a dry laugh, Harry realized that now his suspicions had finally been confirmed. The Headmaster had never intended to listen to him, always ensured him that everything was fine. And now he was going to die because of this utter misconception. He had been brought to Snape who obviously nursed him back to health before his Master could take pleasure in killing him.

Hesitantly, Harry stepped away from the intriguing picture and decided to move quickly now. He approached the windows and looked outside. By the height of the trees, he decided that this had to be the third or fourth floor.

The branches of one tree were particularly close to the window and – considering his limited choices – Harry decided to take that option. Not without difficulty, he opened one of the large windows and a chilly breeze hit his face. Only then Harry realized that his nose seemed to have healed.

_At least this way I'll look good while dying, _Harry thought bitterly._ Not killed by my most deadly enemy, but a rotten tree. Fantastic. _

Hesitantly, Harry edged closer to the branch slowly bending forth and back in the wind. Suddenly, there were sounds in the corridor before the bedroom. Or somewhere close by? With this house, it was hard to tell!

Taking his chances, Harry leapt to the branch, got hold of some boughs and reached the trunk. He tried to immerse in the darkness of the night, carefully watching the bedroom. Yet, nothing moved.

When a couple of minutes had passed and Harry was sure that his mind had played tricks on him, he continued his decent. A few moments later, he hit the ground unsure where to go next. Determined to get away from this place as quickly as possible, he started running. The manor became smaller and smaller and even his headache didn't seem to be so bad anymore. The prospective of his successful escape lifted Harry's mood.

Thus, he was even more unprepared when he hit the invisible barrier and was thrown back to the ground. A head-splitting noise resonated and three seconds later, there was a loud _crack_. Harry was hardly able to see, holding his head in agony, when he made out the silhouette of a person approaching him.

'Back away!' he shouted desperately.

'I most certainly will not,' a harsh voice replied.

Harry had expected anything. To be hit by a flash of green light. To be knocked out again and dragged back to the manor. But he hadn't expected the rage of a seriously annoyed Potion's Master.

With unyielding force, he felt himself being taken by the scruff of the neck and dragged to his feet.

'I didn't think that even you could act so stupidly!' Severus shouted, full of rage.

Defiantly and sufficiently surprised, Harry needed a moment to reply.

'Now that's one way to look at this!' He didn't know what feeling dominated – fear or hatred.

'You are the one that kept me hostage here, nursing me back to health so Voldemort won't be deprived of his fun to kill me! I was simply trying to stay alive, but...'

_WHACK!_

The blow on the back of his head caused Harry to fall to his knees, believing that now his head most certainly would explode.

Severus was shaking with rage.

'Stupid child! It doesn't require the Dark Lord to kill you. You will certainly manage all by yourself if you keep practicing!'

Surprised by the turn events had taken, Harry didn't even protest when he was lifted up to his feet forcefully once more.

Another blow hit him on the back of his head.

'Stupid child!' Severus berated again, holding Harry by the arm to make sure he wouldn't collapse again.

All his life, he had hated this child so much. And now he was simply unable to deal with the immensity of his feelings.

Unable to continue a conversation, he dragged Harry wordlessly back to the manor. The boy didn't protest, apparently in pain and too irritated by the events that had just taken place.

After a couple of minutes, they had reached the manor and entered a living room. With a flick of his wand, Severus lighted a big chandelier that was suspended from the high ceiling, now fully illuminating the room. The bright light hurt Harry's eyes. He barely saw anything and followed the firm grip that pushed and shoved him across the room into an armchair.

'Sit down and don't move!' Severus ordered.

Harry clutched his hands to his head, not able to think clearly. He didn't dream of moving. Quite contrary... If his headache didn't stop, death would be a quite attractive alternative after all.

After a few moments, he heard footsteps approaching. Snape was holding a vial in his hand. He approached Harry quickly, grabbed his hair and pulled his head back.

'Drink this,' he ordered and with that, poured the potion down Harry's throat.

At first he wanted to fight and gagged as the liquid poured down his throat. But the feeling that almost instantly spread through his body was too good to do anything else than sit still and let it take over. The pain was disappearing from his head and some inner warmth ascended in Harry's body. After half a minute, he thought that – physically – he'd never felt better in his life.

Opening his eyes again, his gaze met that of Severus Snape. He looked as sour as ever. Although... there was something in the man's gaze Harry couldn't catch. It was still a look full of hatred, but something was _off_.

'Feeling better?' the Potion's Master asked, his voice shaking with rage.

'Uhm, yes,' Harry replied hesitantly. 'I mean, the headache is gone and it's like I've never felt better, well, physically.'

'Good.'

Severus nodded. Then he approached Harry and slapped him across the face several times.

'Stupid child! STUPID CHILD!'

The blows hit Harry unprepared.

Severus' voice was full of emotions and even before Harry had the brains to raise his hands to protect his head, Severus had turned away from him and collapsed into an armchair nearby. His head now rested in his hands, his gaze turned to the floor.

Harry didn't know what confused him more, the physical attack or the fact that his hated teacher had addressed him as a child.

Why did it feel like Snape was actually upset? Certainly not because Harry had nearly managed to escape. This feeling was worse than anything else. Surely Snape had always been nasty. But he had always been in control. Seeing him lose his control somehow robbed Harry of all safety he had ironically felt before.

Carefully, Harry looked towards Severus.

'So you were not trying to hand me over to _him_ then?' he inquired carefully.

After a long pause, Severus replied,

'No, I was not.'

'Why did Pettigrew bring me to your place then?'

Severus gave a dry laugh.

'You really are that stupid, aren't you?'

Indignantly, Harry huffed, but before he could retaliate, Severus continued.

'It wasn't Pettigrew who brought you here. It was _me_.'

'You? But how?'

'You were already unconscious when Pettigrew wanted to drag you into a fireplace. And I am confident that even you will be clever enough to guess who would have waited for you at the other end.'

There was another long pause.

'Nevertheless', Severus continued. 'I reached you in time and was able to Apparate us to safety before Wormtail returned to his Master empty-handedly.'

Now it was Harry's turn to speak.

'But why would you do that? Why would you go through all the trouble to save me when you wanted me dead all those years?'

'And why would you think I wanted you dead?' Severus replied with deathly calmness.

'Because you hate me. You always did. Let's not pretend otherwise. You...'

'Enough!' Severus interrupted. 'I will take none if this anymore tonight!'

Harry wanted to reply, but closed his mouth again as his Potion's Master suddenly got up and approached his chair with swift strides.

'You', he started slowly, with betraying calmness in his voice, 'will shut up this instant and go to bed or you'll get another whacking!'

Standing so close, Harry could see directly into Severus' eyes and knew that this was not the right time to argue.

When Severus raised his arm again, Harry quickly replied, raising his hands in defeat.

'No! I will go to sleep!'

The Potion's Master nodded briefly.

'We will talk in the morning.'

With that, Severus motioned to a couch which was standing on one side of the room, conjured a few blankets with a flick of his wand and left the room without another word. As the door fell shut, the chandelier extinguished, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

He rubbed his smarting head and moved to his sleeping place. Lying down, he stared into the corner of the room which was illuminated by the mesmerizing moonlight falling inside again.

He had to think about what had just happened.

x x x

TBC


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** First of all, thank you for all your kind reviews! They made my day. Let me return the favour by posting this new chapter. Hope you enjoy!

**Warning:** Again slightly abusive Severus this time, but again nothing too serious. Lots of misunderstandings and hurt feelings.

* * *

**The Bonds That Remain – Chapter 4 **

'We will talk in the morning.'

With that, Severus motioned to a couch which was standing on one side of the room, conjured a few blankets with a flick of his wand, and left the room without another word. As the door fell shut, the chandelier extinguished, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts.

He rubbed his smarting head and moved to his sleeping place. Lying down, he stared into the corner of the room which was illuminated by the mesmerizing moonlight falling inside again.

He had to think about what had just happened.

x x x

Severus sat in his armchair, staring into the fireplace of his bedroom. Immersed in thoughts, he hadn't moved for a while. From time to time, he had levitated a piece of firewood into the fireplace to maintain the soothing warmth emanating from it. The sporadic crackles had a very calming effect on him.

_Great_, Severus had thought. For years he had managed to keep his temper and deal with the boy while he saw him at Hogwarts. Surely, he hadn't been particularly nice, but he had never hit him. And now that he knew that Harry was his son, he had lost his patience so easily.

This feeling had nagged him for a long time.

_History repeats_, he had thought bitterly.

But then he had decided that it wasn't pure anger or hatred that had made him lash out. It had been the devastating feeling of helplessness, something he had not experienced very often in his life before. It was always helpful to suppress feelings before they took over, but this time his routine had failed him.

How would he tell the boy? Certainly there was no way he'd believe him. Hell, he hadn't even considered it an option himself until Dumbledore had given back his memories to him!

A large part of the nagging feeling was anger directed at Dumbledore for keeping away that memory of his. On the other hand, and he hated admitting that, it was more anger because of his own actions, decisions that had obviously been wrong.

For years he had heard stories of the Golden Boy, Lily and James Potter's son – his son! – and they had reminded him of how his great love had chosen James over him. There had been no other way to explain these feelings.

Despite his surrendered memories, there had been a place in his heart that had always remembered the love of his life, the depth of his feelings and the happiness that seemed to have vanished from his life.

What it hadn't remembered was that those feelings had been mutual. What he felt and what he learned through the stories everybody told was that Lily had chosen James over him, the Mudblood-hater, the Death Eater, unworthy of being one of them. Somehow Albus had always understood his intentions, made him a spy for the order. But he had never been any help when it came to understanding his own feelings.

'The boy is our only hope. After all, your hope.' Dumbledore had only said. 'You need to protect him with your life.'

And that he had done. Year after year.

He had learned to shield his feelings. Not only from the Dark Lord, but the world surrounding him. Learned not to love again, not to allow himself to become vulnerable again. And now it had happened again nevertheless.

Certainly, he didn't _love_ the boy, how could he? Mere words wouldn't change years of hatred and enmity between them. Yet, he felt that something was different. He didn't remember what being loved meant. But he certainly remembered what being hated felt like. Did he really want to pass those experiences on to his... son?

The Pensive was resting on a shelf across the room. Its surface was shimmering slightly as if it tried to lure his interest from time to time. Severus wasn't sure if there was anything else he wanted to see or already too much he had rediscovered.

All the answers to the nagging questions that had busied him for years lay ahead of him, in a stupid little bowl. Yet, he knew that this wasn't quite true. To the most pressing questions, there was no predefined answer.

How was he going to deal with the boy? How could he possibly stay with him?

Harry would certainly not simply accept this. Even Severus had a hard time accepting the idea that he was going to share his life with the boy or worse, share their past.

x x x

Some noise awoke Severus.

Looking around, he realised that he had fallen asleep in his armchair. It was sunny outside and the fireplace was already cold.

With a start, Severus got up and went to the corridor, his destination clearly ahead of him. After several quick strides through the corridor and down a staircase, he entered the living room.

Harry stood in front of a large bookshelf, looking sheepish, several of its boards broken.

At the sight of the approaching Potion's Master, he had backed away several steps and watched him cautiously.

'And what do you think you are doing here?' Severus inquired irritably.

Defiantly, Harry replied

'Well, I was looking for answers.'

'By tearing down my bookshelf and destroying my property? How very intellectual of you.'

Irritated by the usual snapish remarks, Harry continued

'No! Well. I think...'

'That is the problem', Severus interrupted again. 'You are _never_ thinking!'

'That is not true!' Harry was angry now. 'I..'

'Tell me then! Why did you leave this house last night if you were thinking, for only one split second?'

'I thought I was going to be surrendered to _him_!'

'And why would you think that the Dark Lord would nurse you back to health before killing you?'

Severus' voice dripped with sarcasm.

'Well.' Harry was unable to express his reasoning, annoyed by the way his Potion's Master was twisting every single word he said. 'Well I thought this way it would be... more fun?'

Unsurprised by this lame ending, Severus shook his head slowly.

'You would have been killed in an instant. I guess if it weren't for his desire to do so himself, even this inapt rat could have done it. You are defenseless. You are weak!'

_You are weak._ The words resounded in Severus' head. _That's what you deserve. _

Irritated, Severus shook off the unpleasant memory. Noticing Harry's surprise, he schooled his features into a stern gaze.

Harry squirmed at that sight, but defiantly repeated

'I am not weak!'

'You cannot even defend yourself with your wand. How do you intend to do so without it?'

Upon those words, Harry realized that he hadn't seen his wand since it had stopped its loyal service in the most inappropriate moment. With a gasp, he exclaimed

'Wormtail! He has my wand!'

'And then by now, most certainly the Dark Lord would possess it...' Severus replied coldly. 'Do you really think I am that stupid?'

'So you mean you have it?' Harry inquired, involuntarily stretching out an arm.

With a dry laugh, Severus shook his head.

'Yes. But you will not receive it until I think that you are ready for it. Unless I can be sure that you will not do something _stupid_ again.'

'But I need it!' Harry exclaimed. 'I need to defend myself!'

'Defend yourself from whom?' There was a bitter accusation in his Potion's Masters voice.

Harry avoided looking at his teacher, feeling very uncomfortable now.

'You are safe here.' It was a mere statement. Nothing more and nothing less.

'But why?'

'Could you please try to be a bit more articulate?' Severus sighed.

There were so many questions in Harry's head that he didn't know which one to ask first.

'Why did you save me? Did Dumbledore send you? Why did he send _you_? How...'

'Silence!'

Holding his breath, Harry closed his mouth again. He was furious but remained silent.

Severus raised his hand, pointing to the broken bookshelf.

'Explain!'

This time, Harry took a moment to consider his answer.

'It's difficult. I can try... but please, don't interrupt, okay?'

Severus nodded briefly.

'See. When I woke up, all was dark. I didn't know where I had been brought to and the last thing I remembered was Pettigrew who attacked me. He talked about Voldemort and how he would reward him. I was sure he had surrendered me to him. I wasn't sure myself why I was still alive. I thought it was some sick game, maybe it wouldn't have been the same to kill me while I was unconscious. I don't know!'

Harry took a deep breath. Looking at his Potion's Master, he noticed a faint nod that told him to proceed.

'Well. I was scared and just wanted to get out of the house. I didn't have my wand and knew that I couldn't put up much of a fight. I thought my head was going to explode! I thought if I made it to the woods I could hide and get away from _him_ and Pettigrew and who knows who else could have been here!'

After a short pause, he added

'I just didn't want to die that way.'

There was a long silence. Then Severus said

'And why did you think my bookshelf would provide any answers?'

'Well', uncomfortably, Harry shifted from one foot to the other, avoiding Severus' gaze.

'Yesterday, when I tried to escape from this house, I must have, very accidentally, stumbled across a... room. I saw a picture in there.'

Severus gave him a deadly stare.

'Well. It showed you and a woman. It looks very much like a picture I have on my bedside table, too. It was just intriguing that the woman didn't really show. It... well, it did make me curious... When you brought me back to the house last night you seemed so upset.'

Harry cringed as he saw his Potion's Masters look. Obviously, he had chosen the wrong words.

'Well I mean, I thought there was something different in your behavior and that you were hiding something and...'

'And that is why you thought sneaking around my house violating my privacy would so easily provide you with all the answers you deserve so much?' Severus interrupted icily.

'I just thought there might be some more photo albums or something that would help me to understand...'

Severus lifted his hand again and Harry fell silent instantly.

Torn apart by feelings of frustration, helplessness, and anger Severus wasn't quite sure how to proceed best.

'So you think you deserve an answer?'

Harry knew this was a rather rhetoric question.

'What is so unclear to you? Ask one precise question!'

Harry pondered on this for a while and chose carefully.

'Why did you save me if you hate me so much? You could have easily just surrendered me to Pettigrew.'

'You are a stupid boy.' Severus replied angrily. 'You know nothing!'

'Give me answers then!' Harry shoutet. 'All you do is talk and while you do, you actually say nothing!'

'Silence!'

The rage was broiling in Severus. He felt that he wouldn't be able to control it much longer. Since he knew the truth, all those feelings had returned. They had hit him unprepared, with full force.

'No!' Harry grew angrier the second, too. 'I want to know what is going on here!'

Furious, Severus took a few strides towards Harry who refused to back away defiantly, holding his gaze. With fingers white from the force of his balled fists, Severus stopped a few inches before Harry's face and, before he knew what he was doing, shouted

'You are my son!'

Whacking him unconscious with a wooden board would possibly have had the same effect on Harry who stared back at him, dumbstruck, his mouth hanging open.

Several moments passed in which both looked at each other, unable to say something. It was Harry who regained his composure first.

'You are not my dad.' It was statement.

'Yes I am.' Severus' voice was unnaturally calm.

'You can't be!' Harry felt anger revive him. 'You are evil! You hated me right from our first day! You always treated me like shit! We have NOTHING in common. My mom was a muggle-born... You despise them. She always saw the good in everybody, you never do. She would never have loved a _FREAK_ like you!'

Something in Severus' head snapped and without warning, he punched Harry in the face sending him to the floor.

'How dare you...' his glare was deadly, but this time it was Harry who interrupted him.

'Again? So that's why you are losing your temper with me so easily now? Now that you know I am your son you can treat me like you ever wanted to, as it comes to you so... _natural_? Made your point?'

With the back of his hand he wiped some blood from his cracked lip and gave Severus a sarcastic smile.

'Well, thanks for teaching me, _Dad_.'

x x x

TBC


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note:** First of all, thank you for all your kind reviews! Some of you voiced the opinion that Severus doesn't act like a father at all and if he did, he should not be hitting his son. Please remember that a) this is just a fic and b) I will explain in due time Severus' motivation behind it. There is always a reason, but sometimes it takes longer to see, otherwise I could just summarize the plot for you and you'd be done reading in 5 minutes. But after all, is it that what you want?

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**The Bonds That Remain – Chapter 5 **

With the back of his hand he wiped some blood from his cracked lip and gave Severus a sarcastic smile.

'Well, thanks for teaching me, _Dad_.'

x x x

Severus hadn't moved for a while. Dumbstruck, he stared at his hand that was still balled into an angry fist.

'What's the matter, _dad_?' Harry taunted. 'In for another round?'

He knew that he didn't mean what he said. Deep in his heart, Harry knew that it was wrong. Yet he felt so hurt, so betrayed! And the one thing that came most easily to him now was being cruel. Somehow, it seemed to mask the hurt he felt.

When Severus still didn't move, he grew a little nervous.

'What's the matter?' he asked, more polite than he had intended it to sound.

The Potion's Master finally looked at him, and with a flick of his wrist, wand in hand, he mumbled some words, inaudible to Harry's ears.

After a couple of seconds, Harry felt the crack on his lips close. After another few seconds, the pain was gone.

Startled, he began

'Thanks. I think?'

Severus only nodded. When still he didn't seem to make an effort to start a conversation, Harry thought it'd be his turn to do so.

'Care to explain?'

At this, Severus' look became angry, but somehow this anger didn't seem to be directed at Harry.

'What's there to explain?' he asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

'I hit you and that's inexcusable.'

'Why? Because I am your child?'

'No, because it is inexcusable.'

Surprised by the lack of argumentation his Potion's Professor usually sported, a feeling started to nag Harry. A feeling that told him that after all, something wasn't right.

'It won't kill me,' he offered, appeased by the obvious regret his Professor was showing. When still those words didn't have an effect, he added

'Not like that it has been any better with the Dursley's.'

At this, Severus looked up.

'Are you saying that you were abused by them?' He couldn't bring himself to add 'too'.

'No!' Harry quickly corrected.

There was a pause.

'I mean. It's not like they ever hit me with something or have been overly cruel. It was just the usual taunting, making me feel worthless, belittling me, and showing me at every possible occasion that they were better than I could ever be.'

At this, Severus snorted, but realising that Harry had mistaken his gesture as a signal of not believing him, quickly corrected the impression.

'That's what you'd call abuse, Potter.'

'You are joking.'

'Maybe not physically, but emotionally, and that's often a lot harder to deal with.'

Surprised about the turn the conversation had taken, Harry wondered whether he was ready for such a discussion with the man he had hated for such a long time. On the other hand, he had just learned that this was his father and somehow, he didn't really have a chance but work this out, had he?

For a while, both stared at each other. Then, Severus sat down in one of the chairs by the fireplace, gesturing Harry to take the other one.

As soon as he had complied, he looked at his father.

'So you want to talk?'

'Yes.'

'About what?' Harry asked. When he realised that somehow this sounded wrong, he added 'about what in particular?'

Severus thought for a while.

'You said you had questions and you were looking for answers.'

The sheepish look returned to Harry's face.

'Well, yes, sorry about those.' He yanked his head to the broken shelves.

'Obviously somebody underestimated his weight,' Severus teased.

'No!' Harry replied indignantly. 'I simply overestimated the durability of your furniture.'

For a quick moment, Harry thought that he had seen his father's mouth curl into a small grin, but somehow it didn't extend to his eyes. Maybe he had only imagined.

'What do you want to talk about then?' he asked again.

Severus gave a dry laugh. 'Ask what you want to ask.'

Then, the question sprung to his mind that had instantly been there the moment his father had told him the truth. 'Why now?'

'What do you mean?'

'Why did you tell me now? If I am your… son,' Harry didn't mean to make a deliberate pause, but somehow it felt so weird, 'how come you never told me before? All those years you treated me horribly.'

'I know this is hard to believe for you, but I only recently learned that I am your father. This is new to me, as it is new to you.'

Harry looked incredulous. 'You must be joking!'

'I am not.'

'How could you _not_ now that I am your son.' An involuntary grin spread on his face. 'I mean it's not like I was born in a cabbage patch…'

An uncomfortable look spread on Severus' face. He hadn't really expected to discuss _that_ with a child. To move to shallow waters again, he interrupted

'You know what a Pensieve is?'

Harry shook his head. 'You're changing the topic here!'

'No I am not. Wait until I explained to you.'

With furrowed brows, Harry nodded, signalling his father to continue.

'Maybe it will be easier if I showed you.' With that, he rose. When Harry moved, Severus held up a hand.

'No, wait for me.'

He left the room, leaving Harry in front of the fireplace. He didn't know what to feel. Yet he was curious.

Before he could indulge in any more thoughts, Severus had returned, a small bowl in his hand.

Interested, Harry looked up. Then, an appalled look appeared on his face.

'Wait, you are not gonna make me drink this, right?'

'No.'

'What it is then?'

Severus sighed. 'If you just let me explain, you'd know by now.'

Frustrated, Harry nodded, but didn't comment again.

'This is a Pensieve. It allows you to store memories inside so you can watch them at a later time.'

'You mean like a copy from your thoughts?'

'No.'

'But you said…'

'If it were a copy, the thought would still exist in your head. The idea is to remove it from your mind.'

'But why would somebody do that?'

'Can't you think of a single incident, only one thought, that was so painful, or frightening, or both, that you would like to erase it from your mind?'

Again, Sirius jumped to Harry's mind. Then he asked

'But how could I do that? Wouldn't it be like he never existed? I don't know if that would be better.'

Impressed by the insight his son was showing for once, Severus nodded silently.

'But,' he continued 'it is not simply about erasing something from your memory completely. For that we have memory charms. It is to remove a memory from your mind that will not return unexpectedly.'

At this, Harry looked confused.

'It is important that you understand the concept. You can remove a thought from your mind and store it in here. It is not erased, it is simply stored out of reach. Your own and that of other persons.'

'But why would you bother to forget that I am your son?'

'I didn't want to. Please believe me. But your mother… Lily…'

At this, Harry cringed. Never had he expected his Potion's Master to say her name and now he did, and there was a melody in Severus' voice he had never heard from him before in all the years.

'I wanted to protect you both.'

'From Voldemort?'

'Yes.'

Harry looked confused now.

'But there must have been hundreds of families in danger because of him. I am sure none of these bothered to forget each other!'

'True, Severus spoke very calmly now. 'But none of these served the Dark Lord.'

'You _WHAT_?'

Harry sprung to his feet, backing away from his father.

'Care to explain?' he yelled. There it was again. The feeling of betrayal.

Severus had much expected this reaction and instead only pointed towards the Pensieve.

'That's why I thought this way it would be easier.'

'What do you mean?'

'This is not only about storing away memories. You can visit them any time you like.'

'You mean yourself?'

'No, everybody can. Everybody who has access to the memory, that is.'

An incredulous look started to form on Harry's face.

'You mean that you will grant me access. To _your_ thoughts?'

Severus sighed. Every piece of him opposed to this idea and if there had been another way, he would have gladly taken the easier path. But there was none. And this was his only chance to do it right.

'Yes.' He forced. 'And maybe, once you have seen it, you will understand and it will be easier to continue from here.'

Harry thought about the implication for a while.

'Do you mean that I will live at your place. _Here_?'

Slowly, Severus tilted his head. 'I know it sounds weird at first, but think about your options. Sirius is gone.'

The hurt Harry had tried to shut out from his heart returned in an instant. His eyes filled with tears, but unwilling to show them, he looked away, fumbling with his fingers.

'There is still the Dursleys,' Harry mumbled. But something deep in his heart seemed to rebel at this thought. A few days ago he would have chosen them over his hated Potion's Master any time. Not because they were any nicer, but because he felt more in control of them than of his professor.

But today was not a few days ago. And somehow, many things had changed.

'So you intend to go back to the Dursleys?' Severus inquired with a quirked eyebrow.

'Well. I don't know.' Harry pondered for a while. 'Does that mean that I have a choice?'

At this, his father couldn't suppress a snort.

'_What_?' Harry asked indignantly.

'As if you _ever_ cared about choices! You do what you think is best, don't you? No matter what other people tell you.'

Harry felt insulted, so he retaliated

'You know, it is what we don't like with our own behaviour what we criticise in others.'

'Is that so?' Severus replied promptly. 'Maybe you have missed a subtle difference here.'

'And what would that be?'

'I am an adult, I can look after myself. You are a child.'

'I am _not_ a child!' Harry protested, but before he could continue, Severus held up a hand.

'Whatever your motivation was to leave #4 Privet Drive, you put yourself in great danger and didn't care about the consequences. If it weren't for this inapt rat, you would be dead by now.'

'Who cares!' Harry was enraged now.

'I do!'

The words had escaped his lips before he could stop them. Now it was Harry's turn to give a sarcastic snort.

'Since when? Oh tell me, _dad_, when did you ever care?'

Severus didn't like where this conversation was going. He wasn't going to justify his behaviour, lest explain his motivation to a child!

When he didn't say anything, Harry continued

'Because Dumbledore told you so.'

'Maybe.' Severus added. 'But did you never wonder why he chose me? With so many other adults read to die for the chance to pamper you anytime?'

For a moment, Harry pondered on the lost chances. What if Dumbledore had placed him with the Weasleys! What a life he could have had! Then, realisation dawned on his face.

'He knew!'

Severus nodded, bitterly.

'Why did he never tell me? Wait! When you say that you only recently learned about this… do you mean _he_ told you?'

'Yes.'

'Why did he keep it away from you for such a long time? And why didn't he tell me?'

Severus held up a hand to stop the flood of questions. Again, he gestured towards the Pensieve.

'And this is where you will find your answers.'

Harry eyed him suspiciously.

'You mean that I can have a look at your memories. In there.'

Careful, as if trying to detect a trap, he continued

'And you are sure that you want me to see this?'

'You will know as soon as you have experienced what it is like to watch a memory. You will be able to share the thoughts, feelings, emotions. It will be like you were there at that time. Maybe this way you will be able to understand.'

When still Harry didn't seem convinced, Severus added

'I don't fancy this idea, too. But I think it is the only way things will work out between us, don't you think?'

Still surprised by this ultimate peace offer, Harry nodded slowly. Deep in his heart he knew that he wanted this to work. He had longed for a parent, _anyone_ to care for that matter, for so long. Yes, surely his Potion's Master wouldn't have been his first choice! But it couldn't hurt to see what lay ahead on the silver plate, right?

With that, Severus placed the Pensieve in front of Harry on a small desk.

'So, what do I have to do?'

'You stick your head into the bowl.'

'You are kidding me!'

Rolling his eyes, Severus grabbed the back of Harry's head and shoved him forwards, plunging his face into the silvery liquid.

Harry felt like he was falling for a very long time, then he hit a green field. It was warm and sunny and he heard the sound of children playing nearby. Then, away in the distance, he made out a young boy. He had never seen him before, yet the resemblance to his father was undeniable.

Dumbstruck, he looked to his left. Severus was standing next to him and with a little shove, pushed him into the direction of the children's laughter.

'Welcome to my childhood,' Severus sighed.

x x x

TBC


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note:** First of all thanks to all of you who reviewed and let me know what you thought. I am happy that so many people seem to like the story and it encourages me to continue writing.

* * *

**The Bonds That Remain – Chapter 6**

Harry didn't know what to say. One moment he had been standing next to his father, eying the bowl with the silvery liquid suspiciously. And only a few seconds later, he found himself in a completely different place – and time – as it seemed.

"Where are we?" Harry asked.

Severus rolled his eyes again. "You really _never_ listen, do you?"

"I do! But how…" Harry was interrupted as Severus held up his hand, signalling him to stop talking.

"Maybe for once, just keep your mouth shut and observe."

With that, Severus made an inviting gesture and Harry took a few tentative steps into the direction of the children's laughter. Then he turned around and asked

"Won't they be able to see me?"

"No."

"How's that?"

"It will be like you are not here. They will not see you, hear you, they won't notice you at all and you won't change anything by your presence. You are simply observing a memory in the most realistic way possible."

With a nod, Harry took heart in his father's assurance and walked towards the children's laughter. Feeling uncomfortable to intrude into such private affairs, Harry stopped behind a large tree to peek ahead nervously.

He saw two girls playing and, quite a bit offside, the younger version of his dad who seemed equally intent to hide from the children's view and observe the situation in silence.

Harry looked surreptitiously at the boy and noticed his mismatched clothing. Instantly he was reminded of Dudley's shirts he had had to wear for too long. How he had always looked forward to wearing his Hogwarts robes again! With those he never stuck out, he was never being laughed at like back in school when other kids would make fun of his way too large pants or shirts. In those, he had looked even thinner than he really was.

With empathy he realised that the boy's clothing looked even more mismatched than his own ever had been. It was not only simply too large, it was completely unfit for a warm summer's day like today.

At first, Harry had thought that the boy was sweating because of his way-too-warm clothing. Then he realised that it could have been a lack of washing, too. The boy's clothing looked filthy, the hair was oily, and his whole appearance profoundly indicated the lack of at least one caring parent.

When he became aware of his staring, Harry blushed and directed his gaze towards the other children playing. Too ashamed to look at his father standing behind him, he observed the scene.

Obviously, one of the girls had done magic and the other one had objected to it. They were arguing, but Harry couldn't make out the details. Suddenly the girl who had objected pointed towards the woods where young Severus had been hiding.

Sour that his presence had been detected, he moved closer towards them. All three of them seemed to engage in a discussion now. Still unable to hear anything, Harry stepped closer to the scene. For one second, he had felt his father's hand holding him back, but before he could turn around, the grip had loosened.

Confident that the children still had not spotted him, Harry walked straight towards them now and was able to hear their muttering.

"He's a freak, don't talk to him!" the one girl said.

Harry noticed her horsey face, but before his brain had processed the implication of it, the other girl retaliated.

"Petunia! Don't call him like that!"

"But that's what he is, Lily!"

"Well, then I guess I am a freak, too, aren't I?"

The hurt and accusation was undeniable in the young girl's voice whose hair was fiery red.

Harry couldn't believe that he was actually watching his mother! Yes, he had seen her on moving pictures. Even the look into the Mirror of Erised was nothing comparable to this! It was like she was standing right next to him.

He opened his mouth and wanted to say something, but felt the grip on his shoulder again. Turning around, he saw his father standing next to him, shaking his head slowly.

"That's her? That's really her?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yes." There was an ineffable sadness in Severus' voice.

"And you…"

"Yes."

This time, Harry noticed that his father's voice had returned to its habitual cold and callous tone.

Torn between listening to the children and talking to his father, Harry stood motionless, overwhelmed by his feelings.

He observed how his Aunt ran away from the scene, obviously crying.

"Now that wasn't very nice of you, Severus," Lily reproached.

"But it's the truth," Severus retorted.

"You can't call her a freak, either!"

"But she's the one not able to do magic. That's not our fault!"

"But you know how much that hurts. Especially you should know!"

"Now what's _that_ supposed to mean?" Young Severus yelled angrily and obviously very hurt.

But the girl had already turned around and ran after her sister without so much as looking at him one last time.

For a moment, Harry thought that he had seen tears well up in the boy's eyes, but in the next moment, he had turned around and ran off.

Harry had to run hard to follow the boy. Although he could hardly be older than nine years old and wore absolutely mismatched clothing, he seemed very fast and agile under that shabby façade.

They were running for roughly five minutes when the first dilapidated houses appeared.

"Where are we?" Harry asked his father who, and Harry was surprised to notice, had no problem keeping up with him.

"Spinner's End."

There was some finality in his father's voice, indicating that a discussion about the topic was simply not required.

In silence both followed the boy until they reached a shabby row house next to a textile mill. Harry didn't notice that his father had fallen behind. He was walking quickly to keep up with the boy who was now ascending the doorsteps. For a moment, Harry thought the boy hesitated to enter the house. Then he noticed that the boy was fumbling for keys in his overly large pockets.

Before he could successfully retrieve the keys, the door was yanked open by a tall man with dark hair and a hooked nose. The boy jumped back, apparently startled by the sudden confrontation with his father.

Harry very much expected him to turn on his heels and run off again, but before he could do so, the tall man grabbed him roughly by the arm and yanked him inside the house.

"Didn't I tell you not to wander off?'" he scolded with a loud, resonating voice.

"Dad," the boy began. "I didn't…"

"You ran off to see that girl again, didn't you?" The tone grew dangerous now.

"Dad, please, I didn't…"

Again, the boy was interrupted, and before Harry could catch up with the two, the door was slammed shut in his face. He heard more yelling and screams behind the door and raised his hand to the door knob, but suddenly felt like someone was grabbing him at the scruff of his neck, dragging him backwards.

Everything started to spin, the scene seemed to dissolve, and a few seconds later Harry found himself back in the living room.

Surprised he looked up and saw his dad, standing next to him.

Severus let go of Harry and reached for the Pensieve.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked.

"That's enough for today, I think." Severus' voice was icy.

Harry wondered whether he had done anything wrong, but it was not like he had been snooping around. Contrary, hadn't he had full permission to visit his father's thoughts?

For a moment he wanted to object and apparently, it showed on his face.

Slowly, his father shook his head again.

"Enough for today."

"But…"

"I said ENOUGH!"

Taken aback, Harry retreated a few steps. After a short pause, he asked

"What do you expect me to do then?"

"It is too dangerous to wander around the premises," Severus pondered. "I suggest you do something useful with your time, something you probably didn't bother to do all summer, and start learning."

"What?" Harry exclaimed. "But it's holidays!"

At this, Severus gave a dry laugh.

"To you it's always holidays, isn't it? Nevertheless I think you are in high need of some study unless you plan to perform as poorly as you did last year in your upcoming Hogwarts term?"

Indignantly, Harry huffed. This was not fair! He had always done his best and, apart from that, it was not his fault that there had been so many important things to deal with last year. Things that did probably not include Hermione's favourite pastime activities and likewise, things much more important than studying!

"No, there is nothing more important than studying for you right at this moment," Severus interrupted Harry's flow of thoughts.

"Who allowed you to read my mind!" Harry was even more affronted now.

"Nobody had to," Severus replied calmly. "You should watch your expression in a mirror now and then. It wasn't really hard to guess. Perfect example for something you are in desperate need of learning."

After a while, Harry sighed.

"What do you expect me to study then?"

Severus raised an eyebrow. He had certainly not expected to have is son give in so easily. Not in the mood for a discussion, he didn't question the development though and continued.

"I have some tests for students your age that estimate your knowledge and abilities."

Reading his son's expression, he added

"No practical tasks. It is a written test."

"Great!" Harry sighed. "What topic?"

"It is a general knowledge test to identify all of your weaknesses."

"Well thanks, _dad_, for your assurance," Harry said. "Haven't you considered that there might be at least something I am good at?"

At this, Severus' expression grew hard.

"Unless you stop trying to kill yourself every other day, I don't think so."

Harry thought that his father's voice was unnaturally cold. For a moment, he had thought that things were starting to improve between the two of them, but now he seemed just as sour as ever.

With a grimace, he said

"Well, thanks for your confidence then," and slumped into a nearby chair. Then he muttered to no one in specific, yet too loud to remain unheard, "Just like Uncle Vernon. I am already starting to feel at home here."

Severus turned away, but Harry had already seen the expression on his face. His dad seemed to examine his files in search of a particular document, and after a few moments, drew a folder from one of the shelves. Turning around again, he slapped the sheets onto the desk in front of Harry with more force than necessary.

"I expect you to complete these tasks before I return."

Then he left the room without another word, leaving Harry behind very puzzled.

It wasn't like Harry wasn't used to his Potion's Master's mood swings, yet there was something odd this time.

Harry was sure that he hadn't done something wrong. He had had permission to visit his father's thoughts. There had been no chance for him to intervene or do something stupid, and his father had been at his side all the time…

Well, not all the time, Harry suddenly thought.

Harry had wanted to ask so many questions. For once he had seen his mother! But somehow he hadn't had the chance to talk about it, yet. Everything had happened so quickly. And somehow his dad had acted so…weird.

Harry wondered whether there was anything his dad had been hiding from him.

Then his gaze fell onto the Pensieve that was still resting on the desk.

x x x

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: ** I had the feeling that the interest in this story wasn't very big and was unsure whether I should continue. I think I will try a couple of more chapters and see what the response is.. I didn't have the heart to leave you with a cliff-hanger again, so this chapter is somehow a bit more completed in itself. Hope you appreciate it. As ever, I hope you enjoy! Please be warned that this time characters (esp. _nice_ Severus) may be ooc, but after all, this is a bonding fic, so it's bound to be slightly AU, remember?

* * *

**The Bonds That Remain – Chapter 7**

Harry had wanted to ask so many questions. For once he had seen his mother! But somehow he hadn't had the chance to talk about it, yet. Everything had happened so quickly. And somehow his dad had acted so…weird.

Harry wondered whether there was anything else his dad was hiding from him.

Then his gaze fell onto the Pensieve that was still resting on the desk.

x x x

Harry fidgeted in his chair. His gaze swayed between the Pensieve resting on the desk, and the test his father had told him to complete.

He had taken a look at the questions and starting off lightly, they had left the impression that they weren't too difficult to answer. Certainly, he wouldn't go for epic answers like Hermione most certainly would, but after all, Harry felt very confident that he would be able to answer the questions to the satisfaction of his father.

Well, maybe he wouldn't be _satisfied_. But at least he would be able to show that all he possessed weren't only weaknesses, Harry thought.

Again, his look drifted off to the Pensieve. The silvery liquid was mesmerizing and seemed to draw his attention in an unnatural way. Edging closer to it, he extended a hand until his fingertip nearly touched the still and perfectly even surface.

Harry wondered how the memory would have continued if his father hadn't yanked him out of it. Obviously, the younger version of his dad had been in trouble with his father and, thinking of it, didn't it make him Harry's grandfather?

Harry shuddered at the thought. All the years he had regarded his dad as a stranger. To him he was somebody who couldn't care less about other people's feelings and who would make sure that they were as miserable as him.

Yet in all those years he had never bothered to wonder why he was so miserable in the first place. Of course, there were always difficult characters, but that couldn't explain simply everything.

Thinking about the memory he had observed, Harry was shocked to see his father in such a different light. Obviously he hadn't had a particularly pleasant childhood and, ironically, having seen him in such unfitting clothes made Harry feel closer to him than he ever had in his life.

Surprised by the parallels in their lives, Harry wondered whether his grandfather was still living. Obviously, his dad had forsaken his old home in Spinner's End and occupied Snape Manor now. He had been surprised to see the luxury and spaciousness of the house at first, but now Harry realised that after all, his dad probably had just tried to get away from his old life.

There were still so many questions Harry didn't have any answers for. Like how could his father and his mother have developed a relationship so close to ultimately bring forth him, a child? And why would his mother have chosen a spy for Lord Voldemort?

Harry was positive that today, certainly his dad was not going to answer any more questions.

With rising nervousness he wondered whether he would be allowed to have a look at any of his dad's memories again. He didn't want to snoop around his private issues! He simply wanted to see his mother again, a chance he had never really had in his life, at least not that he could remember.

Harry's finger still hovered above the silvery surface. Torn between his curiosity and longing to see his mother once again, anxiousness what sort of person his grandfather would be like, and desperation not to ruin the shred of trust that had slowly developed between his father and him, he felt that every choice would be a grave mistake.

Slowly dipping his finger into the bowl, he stirred it clockwise. His dad had said that there were more memories. But what way was there to identify a particular one? Wouldn't there be a spell or any other way to tell apart all the memories stored in such a Pensieve?

For a while, Harry closed his eyes and tried to remember very hard the moment in which he had seen his mother. He had felt so close to her, truly happy.

Taking a deep breath, Harry gripped the edge of the Pensieve with both hands. Then he lifted it off the table and brought it to the shelves, leaving more space on the desk for his work.

It wasn't easy to tell why, but Harry felt that it was the right choice. His dad had been so upset after he had seen the memory. Maybe he hadn't remembered all the details of it and now wished that he hadn't shown it to Harry in the first place. Yet Harry was happy that he had. For once he felt true sympathy towards his father, not because genetic ties dictated it, but because he felt that both shared a past that was more difficult than both would have conceded to each other.

With another sigh, Harry tried to distract himself from the memory he had just observed and started to work on the sheets that had been slammed onto the desk.

x x x

Severus was sitting on the chair in his bedroom, facing the empty fireplace. In his hands he held the picture that had been resting on his bedside table before. A by-standing observer would have spotted him in the picture right away, holding his wife tightly in his arms, her laugh infectious.

Yet Severus kept a straight face. His gaze didn't even come close to the picture, but was directed to some distant place behind his empty fireplace.

This wasn't what he had planned at all. He had never meant to revisit those parts of his childhood again, lest have his son see them! Actually, they had been long stowed away and he had liked it that way. And now, everything was back again, so tangible, so real.

When his mother had died, he had inherited her property and Prince Manor had become his new home. Of course it was now Snape Manor, although he despised the name. Yet it had always been a good retreat, a safe haven.

This is ridiculous! Severus thought and his hands gripped the frame of the picture tightly. Gazing down at the beautiful woman dancing with him, a tear stole away from his eyes. He brushed it away with his thumb, but more traitorous tears followed. Tears he had never allowed to show, never shared with anyone.

Sitting in silence, he felt sorry for the roughness towards his son. After all, habits were hard to shake off and weird enough, when he felt cornered he would start to act like the person he never wanted to imitate.

After a while, sadness turned into anger and with a thud, Severus threw the picture onto his bed carelessly. All he had wanted was to show his son the feelings he had had for Lily. Make him realise that he was after all not nasty or cruel, and that he certainly never would have despised his mother. Contrary, he wanted to show him the deep love he carried in his heart for her. He simply chose a memory that wasn't perfect for that purpose.

He wondered what other memories would be stored away in the Pensieve, erased from his mind and yet back in his reach, like they hadn't been in so many years!

Until now he had not dared to look at other pieces of his long forgotten memories, but after all, now that it had started, he thought that finding a suitable piece of remembrance might be enough to show his son what he really felt. After all, he deserved to know!

Confident with his decision, he got up from his chair. Walking past the huge windows, he realised that – judging by the amount of light passing through them – his son had already spent a couple of hours in the living room and had to be hungry by now. He would go and check on him and let him know that he simply needed to find a more suitable memory for him to observe.

And then, for once in a long time, a small but genuine smile spread across his face.

x x x

Harry was quite pleased with himself. He had answered every single question in the test and, although he was sure that his father would find something to criticise with every answer, he had done his best and there was no way his father could insist on the universal absence of skill he supposedly possessed.

Pushing the papers aside, his look fell onto the Pensieve once more. Harry walked towards the shelves and lifted the bowl up again. Carefully bringing it back to the table he decided that placing it where it had been before would probably be the best option. This way, he wouldn't raise suspicions or get into a fully unnecessary discussion.

Back at the table, Harry placed the bowl in front of him. With both hands gripped tightly to the edge, he watched his reflection in the silvery surface when suddenly, the door opened.

Then, several things seemed to happen at the same time. Instinctively, Harry backed away from the Pensieve a few steps. He regarded his father's expression which had turned from anticipating to murderous in less than a second. Harry raised his hands, but even before he was able to explain, Severus exploded.

"How _DARE_ you…" he shouted.

"No! It's not like that!" Harry began, feeling very stupid at the same time. He never thought that he would once find himself in the situation where he had to say that things weren't what they looked like.

Within seconds, Severus had crossed the space between the two of them. His face was now very close to his son's.

"Please don't," Harry suddenly said, not backing away from his father.

Startled, Severus' yanked his head to the side once.

"What do you mean?"

"Please don't hit me again," Harry said calmly.

Slowly, Severus looked down his body and saw his hands clenched into angry fists, his knuckles white from the force. Carefully, he retreated a few steps, still looking at his hands.

"I didn't mean to," he began, but Harry interrupted.

"I know. I know, _Dad_."

At this, Severus looked up and regarded his son's face. He would have expected guilt, remorse, or any other expression suitable for a stubborn and disrespectful boy who had just snooped around his most private memories, but he saw nothing of it.

Slowly, he sat down on a chair behind him, burying his head in his hands. For many minutes, he didn't move and it was only then when he felt something touch his shoulder.

He looked up and next to him stood his son, tears in his eyes.

"Please let me help you," he said.

At this, Severus gave a dry laugh.

"You? Help _me_?"

"Yes." There was no mockery in Harry's voice, no cynicism. It was a plain offer, heart-felt and honest.

When Severus didn't respond, he continued.

"Please let me explain what just happened."

"What's there to explain?" Severus asked, now looking at his son, irritated by his sudden tearfulness.

"I completed the tasks you gave me," Harry said and with a careless movement, gestured towards the sheets that lay on the table next to the Pensieve. "To be honest, I thought about having a look."

He squirmed uncomfortably under the look his dad had given him, but continued.

"I wondered why you would be so nice to me at one moment, and suddenly put back on your hard shell that pushes everybody away from you as quickly as possible. I know that this memory bothered you a lot. I was just not sure whether it was the content of it, or the fact that I was watching. I never meant to snoop around and, after all, I thought I had your permission to look. You were standing right next to me for Merlin's sake!"

At this, Severus straightened his shoulders and raised his arms. For one very awkward moment, Harry thought that he was going to be pulled across his father's lap. He hadn't received a spanking since he had been five or six and Uncle Vernon quite mad at something, but before he could panic over the gesture, Harry found himself being pulled into a hug by his dad.

"I am sorry you have to put up with this," Severus said calmly.

Slowly, Harry folded his arms around the back of his dad and leaned his head to his shoulder. Then, both sat in silence, simply listening to the other one breathing.

x x x


End file.
